Anyone for Scrabble?

Author: Debbie
Rating: PG-13? R? I'm not sure.
Disclaimer: I don't own Scrabble, Michael, Liz, or any of their clothing.
Distribution: Guilty Pleasures. All others please ask first.
Summary: Michael and Liz play strip Scrabble. Think it can't be done? Oh ye of little faith. Thanks to the Polarkin for encouraging me to write this.
Dedication: To Sara, whose fabulous SaSaEN mentions strip board games and ponders on the possibilities of strip Scrabble. And to the friend who long ago wrote me a tale of strip blackjack. You'll probably never read this, but just in case, I hope you don't mind that I've borrowed a bit from it.
Feedback: Yes please.


"Take it off, Michael."

Michael scowled as he yanked off one of his sneakers. "Lucky break." He looked over at Liz, sitting calmly on the floor across the board from him. She still had all 8 pieces of her clothing on -- the amount they had agreed to before starting this little challenge. Two socks, shorts, a tank top with one of his unbuttoned shirts over that, 2 hidden pieces, presumably her underwear, and her silver ring. They had originally argued over jewelry counting as clothing, ("You've still got your earrings in") but had eventually agreed that it counted -- and she had taken her earrings out before play started.

Michael studied his tiles, then added onto the existing 'S' in shoe


Michael looked up expectantly. "Well?"

With a giggle, Liz leaned over and planted a lip-smacking kiss on Michael's mouth. "This is fun."

A few innocuous words went by, and then--


"That's not a word, Michael."

"It is if you're a baseball fan -- Boston, Chicago…. You try telling them it's not a word."

"Since when have you paid any attention to baseball?"

"Since now." He smiled smugly. "Off with them, Parker."

"You're trying to cheat," she grumbled, looking around. "Where's the dictionary in this place?"

He shrugged. "Never needed one. I can spell just fine."

"Except 'socks'."

"Are we playing for fun or are we playing to get good grades in English? Where's your sense of adventure? I say it's a word. Take 'em off."

Grudgingly, Liz pulled off a sock, glaring at Michael.

"Both socks."


"You heard me. 'Sox' is plural. And even if it wasn't, it's on the double word score. So that makes it count as two."

"And when did we make up this rule?"

"You have a better use for those bonus squares? I'm not the one who made up this stupid board, you know. It says double, so I double. Two socks."

"Oh, fine." She tugged off the second sock as well, and added it to the pile with Michael's shoe. "There. You happy now?"

"I will be once the next six items are gone," he smirked.

She smiled sweetly. "You mean the next seven of yours."

"You think you're going to win?"


"We'll see about that."


With a grumble, Michael stood, shimmied his jeans down his legs, and tossed them unceremoniously into the clothing heap. "You're lucky I was actually wearing Wranglers when you added the 'r' and 's'."

Liz didn't answer. She was too busy surveying the board, trying to figure out the best chances of spelling out B-O-X-E-R-S when the time came.

She'd lost the overshirt and ring, but still had her shorts, tank, and underwear on. Michael, meanwhile, had lost everything *but* the boxers and his ring.

"Your turn."

"I know, I know. Don't rush me." He studied his jumble of tiles, wondering how he was going to use U G C Q J I and B.

"You know," he added with a wave of his hand, "I'm thinking I could go for a cold drink. You want anything?" He started to rise.

"Hold it right there. Did you just change your tiles?"


"You did, didn't you. I saw you move your hand over them."

Michael glanced at seven tiles in front of him (B O T T O M S -- he figured he could get Liz out of her shorts and panties in one swoop with that word). "You're just paranoid. Look, you want a drink or don't you?" Maybe if he could distract her with a soda, she wouldn't notice when he changed the tiles back. Or, even better, she'd forget about her suspicions entirely.

"Nope, I'm fine."

Damn. Well, he might as well go with it now. He laid down his tiles, saving one of the 'T's by building on 'TIPS' -- It was her word, but he had taken full advantage by capturing the tips of her fingers in his mouth, sucking each one in turn. Her soft moans and the rush of heat had prompted a temporary halt to the game as they had lost themselves in a brief make-out session. Now they were back to the board game, and he was feeling hornier than ever. It was worth ticking her off a little to see her lose more clothing.

Liz stared at the word he had spelled, before raising her eyes to his. "You did use your powers, you little cheat!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Prove it."

"I know how many of each letter there's supposed to be, and there shouldn't have been any more 'O's." She pointed at the list on the inside of the box lid.

"Well, bully for them. You going to take them off or not?"

He'd expected her to protest more. Instead, she paused, then stood up and began sauntering around his cramped living room. The button of her shorts came undone. And then slowly, slowly, the zipper's teeth purred their way down. Dear God, was she doing a striptease? He forced himself to hold still, and not just grab her and tear away the offending garments. Down one inch. Then another. Liz swayed in a circle around him, and he caught a glimpse of ivory material under the gaping zipper as she passed by. Then, with the slipping shorts making it difficult for her to move, she let them fall to the floor with a soft *plop*. Her tank top ended at the navel, so there was nothing obstructing his view of a tiny pair of sheer ivory panties, string-bikini style. Michael had already seen pretty much everything there was to see, but to have it half-hidden, and almost-but-not-quite visible like that was driving him crazy.

Without another word, he was on his feet, scooping Liz up and carrying her over to the bed.

"Game over," he whispered hoarsely against her mouth, as he pulled the remaining garments off.

"No -- the game's just beginning," she replied with a smile.


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